


A Taste For Murder (And For Sex)

by somebetterwords



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mob, Boypussy Kurt, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Exposure, Kink Meme, Lingerie, Loud Sex, M/M, Marking, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebetterwords/pseuds/somebetterwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Smythe was the eldest grandchild of the most  prominent crime boss in Middle America, and he fucking loved the family business. Executions were part of his job description. His sweet, gentle, innocent civilian boyfriend didn’t know that yet.</p>
<p>
  <a href="http://somebetterwords.tumblr.com/post/127535619004/a-taste-for-murder-and-for-sex-11">Read on Tumblr.</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taste For Murder (And For Sex)

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/50716.html?thread=64685852#t64685852) GKM prompt. Not beta read, so all mistakes are my own and I apologize for them. (Please feel free to point them out to me!)

Sebastian relished in finally killing Chandler Kiehl. It was nothing personal, of course, but the man had been a nuisance for far too long. From day one, the little upstart had constantly looked for ways to undermine Sebastian out of some misguided dream to ascend the ranks and one day become the head of the business. As if being a go-getter could magically be enough to make Sebastian’s whole family overlook the son who had been groomed since birth to take over their clan and instead hand the keys to the kingdom over to a complete stranger. As if Sebastian didn’t have plenty of cousins and aunts and uncles who were in line behind him. Chandler Kiehl was an interloper, an outsider, who had no respect for the laws that governed their business and their people. The old guard had trouble enough accepting the fact that their future leader was a half-French faggot and that was after they had seen the cold spark in Sebastian’s eyes as he shadowed his granny, the bloodlust when Sebastian took care of his first rat at the ripe old age of fifteen. But Chandler? Chandler was a nobody off the streets that one of their runners had taken pity on. They had all treated him with kindness and mercy, allowed him into their fold so he could have a steady job and a network of friendship. And how had he repaid them? With utter contempt. The disloyalty was almost mind-boggling.

“Pleath no mo’, I’m sorry!” Chandler’s words were garbled as he tried to speak around the blood pooling in his mouth from where Sebastian had pulled a tooth. It probably hurt him to swallow after he had been choked out by the underlings who brought him in, but even Chandler wasn’t dumb enough to try spitting. The defiance of it would ensure a blow to the head regardless, but doing it on the Persian area rug his father had bought as a housewarming gift would incite a level of violence no enemy of the Smythe family had ever seen. The irritating whine of his voice only set Sebastian’s teeth on edge. He backhanded Chandler across the face, mostly because he could, but also because the subsequent cry of pain was a much more pleasant sound.

“You’re very lucky, Mr. Kiehl.” Sebastian made a circuit around the rickety wooden chair to which Chandler was bound, putting on a show for all the eager eyes watching him. Today was a learning day, and just like he had observed so many snitches get what was coming to them in his teen years, watched the art and science with his friends and future colleagues beside him, so the circle continued and he became the expert mentor, performing for his keen pupils. “Normally, I would have torn your vocal cords out already, but cauterization is such a pain in the neck. And we can’t have you dying from exsanguination. That’s so boring! Besides,” Sebastian tapped hard with a single knuckle Chandler’s tender right forearm. He could still feel the heat emanating from where they had branded him there with the shape of a rat. “I think we’ve done plenty with fire for today.”

He nodded to the woman stationed at the door. She collected what Sebastian thought of in his head as _the torture tray_ (but never referred to as such out loud because the name was far too cutesy) and left the room to take it back to the shed outside. Normally, they would have done the entire interrogation and punishment process outside, but it was just far too chilly for that. He couldn’t look menacing while shivering. He was struck suddenly with the mental image of himself trying to shove bamboo splinters up a traitor’s nail beds while wearing the bulky mittens Carole had given him last Christmas, and couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him as he pictured it.

“You all right, boss?” One of his students asked.

“Just had a funny little thought, I’ll tell you kids about it when we debrief tomorrow.” He swung his leg casually under the front legs of the chair, sending Chandler crashing backwards and hitting the ground with a terrified shriek. “Set a tarp under him and get him back upright for me. Even in the privacy of one’s home, it is always paramount to keep a crime scene clean. No matter how many contacts and connections you have, you can never know when a Fed will come sniffing round. All you can know is that you left nothing for them to find. Ms. Pillsbury will be sanitizing the tools we used today, but next time it’s on you. You will, however, be handling cleanup and disposal, and she will check how you did. Don’t disappoint her, and don’t disappoint me.”

He leaned back against his desk— antique to set the tone of the room, Italian, chosen by his aunt and Kurt on one of their weekend shopping trips— to watch as they followed his instructions. Sebastian felt a little surge of pride when his munchkins finished their job in minutes flat and immediately fell into a perfect line against the far wall to watch him with rapt attention. These kids had great synergy.

“Now, Chandler,” he said. “You tell me you’re sorry, but can you tell me what for?”

He only trembled in response.

“Talk to me, I won’t bite.” He grinned wide so his pearly whites gleamed in the low lights of his office, like a toothpaste ad, or a shark smelling blood in the water. “We all know what you did of course, but I wouldn’t mind hearing an apology.”

Chandler blinked unshed tears away, which must have been difficult with one of his eyes already swelling from an earlier punch, and peered up at him through cracked lenses. He took a pained gulp of his own blood, whether to clear his mouth or wet his throat Sebastian didn’t know. “I’m sorry for offering loans on the side using family funds. It was dishonourable, and it tarnished our name as elite financiers.”

Sebastian was torn between laughter and spitting rage. Before he even registered what he was doing, his hand was balled into a fist and flying straight into Chandler’s nose, eliciting an audible crunch. He pulled back, unclenched his hand and let it drop to his side without shaking it out, and surveyed the damage. There was a fucking river of blood gushing out of Chandler’s nose, and he let out pitiful little whimpers while he rocked back and forth as much as he could with the rough rope cutting into his wrists and ankles, holding him in place. His glasses were even more broken, and now shards and splinters were lodged into the thin skin around his eyes.

Well, it seemed spitting rage had won. “You pathetic weasel!” He let the saliva gather in his mouth for a bit before hawking it into Chandler’s face. It could not possibly have hurt more than any of the multitude of thrashings he had taken that day, but it pushed Chandler over the edge; he started sobbing. Sebastian watched him take great heaving breaths and took some time to reign himself in. The anger did not abate, but it turned icy, controlled and precise.

“Stop crying, you ungrateful, opportunistic snake,” he commanded. “Even in the face of death, you cannot confess your sins. Because that’s what I am, Chandler Kiehl. I am death himself. I am your judge, jury, and executioner. And even though I have long seen you as less than the dirt at the bottom of my shoe, you still managed to disappoint me with your cowardice.”

Sebastian sighed, moving to sit back in his desk chair. The chair would have been his favourite piece of furniture in the entire mansion, if it weren't for the California king canopy bed in the master suite. It was his uncontested favourite in the office, though, and the only one he had chosen for himself. Between the buttery leather, walnut wood, and the carvings and gold detailing he had custom ordered, his executive office chair felt like a modern-day throne. That was particularly fitting, Sebastian supposed, since he was a prince of sorts. He sat back regally, the ankle of one leg propped on the knee of the other, just to watch the traitor who had sought to steal away his family’s empire.

“You know,” Sebastian mused, “it’s really your cowardice that brought you where you are today.” He set his foot back down, leaned forward to rest his forearms on his desk. “Relentless ambition is worth nothing if you haven’t got the balls to take any real risks. No real risks, no real rewards. If you had taken a real chance, maybe you would have succeeded. Maybe you’d be sitting where I am.”

He opened the centre drawer of his desk, reached into the back for something he shoved into his pocket. With it on his person, he stood again and glided forward, back to Chandler’s spot in the centre of the room. His gaze never wavered from the mouse of a man before him. “Since you think all we knew about was the unsanctioned lending, I’m guessing you thought you’d be walking out of here alive today. Or maybe not walking, considering what we did to your feet, but still. You thought you were going to leave here today in something other than a body bag, because why else would we beat you the way we have, if not to make an example out of you? If not to show just what happens to people who sail our boats on anything other than the very bountiful streams we set them on? The thing is, is that everyone already knows what’s coming to them if they abuse the resources we provide them; we don’t need to remind our people to stay on the strait and narrow. You knew the consequences, too, and yet you still squandered the gifts you were bestowed, when they should have been held ten times as precious by the likes of you.

“The speed of your rise in position was admirable, to be sure, but you are still a worthless street urchin at your core. That’s all you ever were, and that’s all you’ll ever be. It’s important for one to remember who he is, and to stay humble, or he’ll find himself in predicaments like this one. You bigged yourself up too much. Your ego was big, but your ideas weren’t. Illegal moneylending, drug doctoring, demanding protection dues from businesses that were already covered, stuff like that is all small potatoes. My aunts and uncles were rightly pissed about it, make no mistake, especially since we’re honour-bound to refund those security fees, and send something nice as an apology for the mix-up, but you probably could have lived to see another day.

“But then you went and tried to betray us. If you’re going to approach another family with plans of a hostile takeover, then you have to put your ass on the line. You have to go for a syndicate that really hates us. That’s the risk I was talking about. It was safer to be seen in the company of the Claringtons than it would have been with the likes of the Andersons, certainly, but you clearly never thought about why it was safer. It’s because there is a strong foundation of respect and trust between the Smythes and the Claringtons. We’re friends. And family means infinitely more in a business like this one, will always mean more, but friendship has value. And the value of our friendship is far greater to the Claringtons than the money they stood to make with your plan. Unlike some people, they understand what it means to be in the Smythes’ bad books. They have wished to enter the human trafficking industry for years, they have fielded offers like yours for years, and always they have stood with my family. They know how strongly we feel that practice is abhorrent. Coincidentally, they are just as strongly against jumped up treasonous twinks trying to sell company secrets, so they let us know about your machinations posthaste. You fancied yourself a visionary, a brilliant Machiavellian strategist, but you’re nothing more than a stupid little boy.

“You’d have to be stupid to think you had a chance in hell to get all those things you dreamed of. I’ve seen that gleam in your eyes since the day you stepped foot in my grandmother’s offices. It just got worse from there. You’re just not good enough, Chandler. You were never good enough. You could never be me. You’re not good enough for this family. You’re not good enough to lead it. You’re not good enough for my boyfriend.” He let out a wry chuckle when Chandler’s head jerked back up. “Did you think you were subtle? You were practically drooling the first time you saw him perform. I didn’t hold that against you at the time, because watching him on the stage tends to have that effect on people. Kurt’s voice is as dangerous and powerful as any weapon in the Smythe family armoury and I love him all the more for it. But following him around like a lost puppy the way you did, that was just sad. Even if by some miracle you had ousted me, you never would have won my Kurt’s heart.”

“You only have him because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth!” Chandler screamed, words and voice mangled from all the injuries he’d sustained. “Don’t act like you’re better than me because your grandparents bought you a mansion in the hopes you’d buy a husband. I could have taken over this whole fucking business, and then I would have taken your boyfriend, too.”

“How nice that you managed to find an iota of nerve in your last minutes of life.” Sebastian said evenly. He squatted down so their faces were level. “You’re misguided, though. I don’t think I’m better than you because of money or pedigree. I think I’m better than you because I have honour, and loyalty. I think I’m better than you because I’m actually good at what I do, and I don’t have to resort to cheap, dirty tricks to get ahead. And I take great umbrage at the implication that Kurt Hummel is some kind of gold digger. There is not a single person on this planet with greater integrity, or a more loving heart. I didn’t buy him, and you wouldn’t have taken him, because he is a person. It disgusts me that you think you could. The longer I spend in your company, the more ways you find to disgust me.” He rose back to full height and stared down at Chandler. “I’m going to kill you now, any last words?”

“Why did you go through the trouble of torturing me if I’m dying anyway?”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all. My elders didn’t think you mattered enough to merit them doing it themselves, but they did want to hear that you had suffered. So I thought, ‘hey, I don’t like him, he deserves some pain, the youngsters need to see a demonstration of how these things work, what great timing!’ You’ve been a learning experience for them; it’s the greatest contribution to society you’ve made in your miserable, wretched life.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a slim, black Glock. “I was planning to give you a quick death, since the time preceding it has been so difficult. I would have given you that much mercy” Sebastian said, brushing the end of his gun over the bridge of Chandler’s nose, “a single bullet between the eyes, and you could meet your maker.” He slid the gun back into his pocket, letting his hand linger there. “But then you lied to me, so I changed my mind.” His hand came out of his pocket once again, this time with the slim, black handle of a Protech knife in its hold. Sebastian pushed the button and kept his eyes on the matte blade as it slid out of its nest. “I’m going to slice this blade across your twiggy, little neck instead. You’re going to drown in your own blood before you pass out. Exsanguination is boring, I know, and terribly messy, but then so were you.”

With that, he fisted his left hand in Chandler’s matted hair, tipped it back to expose his throat, and went for the jugular.

And then he heard the gasp.

* * *

This wasn’t how Kurt was supposed to find out.

Ideally, Sebastian was supposed to take him out to dinner, wine him and dine him, take him dancing, carry him over the threshold of their bedroom door, ravish him. Then when Kurt was all loose and relaxed, Sebastian would gather him up in his arms. He’d card his fingers through Kurt’s silky hair, kiss his forehead. Then he’d say, ever so casually, ‘there’s something I want to share with you.’ Kurt would ask what. ‘You know I work for the family business, but we do… a little more than construction and real estate.’ Sebastian would ease Kurt into it slowly, take him to the office on a slow day, tell his family they could speak a little more freely at family brunch, maybe ask Uncle Patrick to talk to Kurt about what it meant to marry into the mob. Eventually Kurt would be immersed enough that he could be trusted to plan parties all on his own, but other than that Sebastian would protect his babydoll from the ugliness of his world, always. And one day, in the very near future, he’d put a ring on Kurt’s finger. The Hummel-Smythe wedding would be the event of the year, maybe the decade. They’d have beautiful children together and Kurt’s only worry would be the care of their heirs— he would still have his music and his designs, of course, but that would be for his own fun.

Instead, there Kurt was, standing in the open doorway, haloed by the light streaming through the window behind him. His chest heaved as his eyes flickered from Sebastian’s hand still clenched around the handle of the knife (the knife plunged into a man’s throat) to the blood splattered across his shirt to the other faces in the room to Sebastian’s eyes. The world slowed to a standstill, and Sebastian couldn’t see the kids watching the two of them like a tennis match, or hear the gurgling noise of blood gushing out of Chandler’s wound. All that existed in that moment, like so many moments in his life, was Kurt.

Finally, those dilated blue eyes decided to lock gaze with Sebastian’s own. Kurt said his name in a single shuddering breath, “Bas,” and the world came rushing back into focus. He left the knife where it was, lodged firmly in Chandler’s neck, and stepped around the soon-to-be corpse. His boyfriend wasn’t running away screaming yet, so maybe this was salvageable. Sebastian moved towards Kurt and, without breaking eye contact, tersely ordered his onlookers to clean up.

He placed a hand firmly on the small of Kurt’s back (because Kurt responded to authoritative touch, and because Sebastian had things under control, he _did_ ) and one on his hip (fuck, he was smearing blood all over Kurt’s shirt _and_ jeans. Kurt was gonna kill him out of blind rage even if his fight-or-flight instinct never kicked in) and guided him back out of the office. Sebastian was planning to get them to the library, (warm in case Kurt went into shock, opposite end of the house from the body, a little bit harder to storm out of the estate from that room) but Kurt’s feet stopped cooperating when they were next to of the low slung couches in the music room. He whipped around, quick as a wink, and placed his hands on Sebastian’s shoulder. Kurt looked down at the bloody stain between them for a moment, and bit his lip as one hand drifted down until the tips of his fingers were playing over the soaked, warm cotton.

Words of explanation were on the tip of his tongue, but they dissolved into nothing. Because just as he was getting ready to say them, the hand on his chest clenched at the fabric there. With one hand balled over Sebastian’s chest, and the other holding tight to his shoulder, Kurt leveraged himself up and forward for a kiss. The last thing Sebastian had been expecting when he looked up to see his boyfriend watch him brutally murder a man was a kiss, but if he had, he still wouldn’t have expected a kiss like this. This wasn’t an ‘I don’t understand what’s going on and I’m scared but your touch makes me feel safe’ kiss. It wasn’t a ‘whatever happens, I love you’ kiss, either. It wasn’t even a ‘let’s not talk about this, I’m sure you feel bad about what you did’ kiss— which was for the best, because Sebastian didn’t feel bad about it, and he knew he had to be honest about that, whatever the consequence. No, there was nothing gentle about how Kurt rolled Sebastian’s lips between his teeth before moulding their mouths together, nothing sweet in the way he shoved his tongue down Sebastian’s throat and pulled back just far enough to sweep against the roof of his mouth; the way his fingernails dug crescents into the back of Sebastian’s neck was anything but forgiving. This was a kiss of hunger and pure need. The last time he got this kind of kiss was three nights ago when Sebastian went down on Kurt for two hours straight, until he was yanked up by the hair so Kurt could mash their faces together and demand more. This, Sebastian realized as Kurt hooked one leg around his waist so he could rub his hot— fuck, he could feel the heat through Kurt’s jeans— centre against Sebastian’s protruding hipbone, was a ‘for the love of god, pound me into the nearest horizontal surface until I see stars, _please_ ’ kiss.

And even if he was confused where it was coming from, Sebastian would always grant that request.

He moved his hands down from Kurt’s back to cup the underside of his thighs and gave a sharp yank up. Kurt followed the unspoken instruction eagerly, lifting his other leg so both were wrapped tight around Sebastian’s waist and draping his arms over Sebastian’s shoulders. Sebastian broke their kiss to graze his teeth over Kurt’s jaw, then moved down to the length of his neck. He grabbed tight onto Kurt’s ass and took shuffling steps backwards and to the left, sucking hard on Kurt’s clavicle all the while. If the pretty little mewls weren’t proof enough of how turned on Kurt was, the total lack of concern for the bruise sure to form before family brunch tomorrow morning would have been.

Kurt tipped his upper half away abruptly so he could more fully grind against Sebastian’s abs. The sudden shift in weight sent Sebastian stumbling, and it was only with a quick swivel that he crashed onto cushions instead of hardwood floor. Kurt landed heavily atop his thighs, which seemed to suit him fine, as he immediately pushed himself up by the knees before dropping down hard again in a crude imitation of what he could be doing if they were both naked and he was seated properly in Sebastian’s lap.

Being naked sounded great. Sebastian grabbed tight onto Kurt’s hips, holding him in place. “Shh,” Sebastian whispered when Kurt whined in distress, “I got you.” He untucked Kurt’s shirt and began unbuttoning from the bottom, letting Kurt handle his own bowtie. Their hands met in the middle, and Sebastian pushed the shirt down Kurt’s arms, yanking and pulling to get it past his wrists. In some distant part of his mind, he was pretty sure he heard a button popping, but there was no salvaging that shirt from the red handprints all over it, anyway. He relished the vision of Kurt’s freshly revealed, sweet, pale skin before leaning forward to nose along the line of his shoulder. Sebastian bit down on the spot he’d been sucking earlier, then scooped and twisted until Kurt was spread out on the couch with Sebastian kneeling between his legs. He let his hands wander up and down Kurt’s sides, taking extra care to rub over that sensitive spot at the dip of Kurt’s waist, just below his left rib. One of Kurt’s hands went to Sebastian’s ass, pushing down so he would lie down on top of him, while the other threaded itself through Sebastian’s hair, forcing his lips and teeth to the delicate skin of Kurt throat.

Sebastian followed easily. He gave a sharp nip to Kurt’s chin, prompting a giggle that cut off into a gasp when Sebastian began rutting his hardening dick into the crease of Kurt’s thigh. It wasn’t unlike the gasp that prompted him to notice Kurt in his doorway, and the realization that this was really happening, that his fucking angel of a boyfriend had seen him at his very worst and was still here, still beneath him and holding on tight, just sent him rutting harder. Sebastian held the back of Kurt’s head in his palm and licked into his mouth, holding his weight up with the other elbow. Kurt worked one hand under Sebastian’s shirt to paw at the skin of his back while the other was tweaking his own nipple. Sebastian broke the kiss when he realized what Kurt was doing and batted his hand away with a growl. He bit and kissed and licked down Kurt’s neck and chest until he was hovering over one peaked nipple. He glanced up to see Kurt leering down at him, pupils blown out so his baby blues were just a thin ring of stormy grey. He lowered himself down and took Kurt’s nipple between his lips, flicking the bud back and forth with his tongue, and smiled around it when Kurt’s eyes rolled back into his head. Sebastian switched nipples then, sucking hard and applying pressure with his teeth as he rolled the abandoned one between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it none too gently.

Kurt took the torture beautifully, accepting what Sebastian gave him with stuttered whimpers and thrusting his chest up to beg for more. Sebastian got up on his knees again and placed his newly freed hand between Kurt’s legs. He rubbed the heel of his palm up and down against Kurt’s clit. His hand drifted down to cup Kurt’s pussy fully and he groaned when he realized just how wet Kurt was. He gave one final tug with his teeth before releasing Kurt’s nipples and sitting up fully. He had to give a quick squeeze to the base of his cock when he saw Kurt was so wet that there was a dark patch on his pristine white jeans.

His fingers scrambled over Kurt’s belt then, and by the time he thunked it down on the coffee table next to Kurt’s bowtie, Kurt had already undone his own button and fly. Sebastian was immensely grateful that these were some of Kurt’s looser pants, because he was able to pull them off in one smooth movement, leaving his boy in only a pair of white panties and frilly ankle socks.

“Lace?” Sebastian asked as he ran his fingers over the floral embroidery of the boyshorts. “Very pretty.”

“Tulle,” Kurt corrected. He spread his legs until one foot was planted firmly on the floor and the other was thrown over the back of the couch. He lifted his hips even further, until they were completely off the couch, so he could show Sebastian how the crotch of his panties was completely soaked through. “You know what would make them look even prettier?”

Sebastian let out a questioning hum. He leaned down to kiss the supple skin of Kurt’s tummy, winding one arm under Kurt’s ass to support his weight, before grabbing the waistband of the panties between his teeth and tugging down gently. He stopped when they were a few inches down Kurt’s milky thighs, and promptly pushed two fingers into Kurt’s pussy. Kurt thrust back onto them as much as he could, but he couldn’t do much to bear his weight down from the position he was in. “Tell me, Kurt,” Sebastian murmured. He began circling his thumb over Kurt’s clit at that moment, so Kurt was helpless to do anything but moan. He pulled his fingers out and slapped them lightly against Kurt’s inner thigh. “What would make them prettier, babydoll?”

“Mmm,” Kurt moved the leg hooked over the back of the couch and used it to pull Sebastian back over him. “If you fucked me,” he spoke quietly, sultrily, into Sebastian’s ear while one hand rubbed over his hard-on. “And then I put the panties back on after and got them all messy.” He stopped to suck on Sebastian’s ear lobe for just a second. “I know how much you like seeing my panties splattered with your come, daddy.”

“Fuck,” Sebastian grunted. “Yes, I love that.” Kurt raised both of his legs straight up, toes pointed to the ceiling. Sebastian ran his hands slowly up Kurt’s thighs, the backs of his knees, his calves, and finally his feet, pushing the panties up as he went. “Love _you_.” He landed a quick peck on Kurt’s ankle as he moved to stand. Kurt dropped his feet backed down over the edge of the sofa and sat up to watch Sebastian. He spread his legs and fingered himself, three of them in a scissoring motion, almost casually.

Sebastian got his pants and shoes off quickly, but when he started in on the buttons of his shirt, he felt a hand grab at his wrist. Kurt looked up at him beseechingly. “Leave it on?” And then his gaze moved down.

Sebastian’s eyes followed to where Kurt was staring, at the stain of a dead man’s blood, an angry red-brown dominating the cool grey of his shirt. He looked back at Kurt, watched him lick his lips, watched the glistening hand rested on his thigh inch back to his pussy, and then something clicked in his mind.

He could feel his legs begin to give out under him at the force of his epiphany, so he sat back down on the couch. Kurt immediately straddled his lap, and it was all Sebastian could do to haul him closer by the ass and devour his mouth. Kurt clutched at the hem of his button-down and pulled up just enough to expose Sebastian’s cock. He wriggled closer until it was flush between his pussy lips. Sebastian used his hold on Kurt’s ass to bounce him up and down so they could both get some slippery friction, and the head of his cock bumped against Kurt’s clit with every pass. One of Kurt’s arms wound over Sebastian’s shoulder, and the other hand clung tight to Sebastian’s shirt.

Right over the stain.

Sebastian could feel a rumble forming in his chest; he broke the kiss— though it was more teeth than tongues and lips— and buried his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck to let out a deep, low growl. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Kurt snapped his hips even harder. “You always feel so good. So thick. Just for me.”

“No,” Sebastian said, pulling back to look Kurt in the eye. He moved a hand between them to rest it over Kurt’s, “Watching me do what I did.”

Sebastian would never quite understand how his boyfriend managed to look so bashful in moments like this one. He had no business blushing like an innocent virgin when his hair was sex-mussed, when he was stark naked and practically riding Sebastian’s cock. Kurt didn’t deny it, though. “I know I should have been horrified, but that guy always gave me the creeps and you looked so— oh! Yes, yes, yes,” Kurt had risen too high, and he sank onto just the head of Sebastian’s cock on the way back down. He stayed where he was, hovered over Sebastian’s lap, and swivelled his hips in tight circles.

Sebastian had had enough of foreplay, though, and he knew Kurt’s legs had to be tired, even if he was too caught up to notice. “Hands and knees,” he ordered.

Kurt did as instructed, obedient and eager as he always was in the (figurative) bedroom. “Good boy,” Sebastian murmured. He knelt behind him, leaned forward to kiss the first knob of Kurt’s spine, and sat back once more. Then Sebastian grabbed his cock and slid home in one smooth motion.

Kurt sighed in relief at finally being full and immediately started trusting back, trying to fuck himself on Sebastian’s dick. Sebastian almost came then and there. He smacked Kurt’s ass hard, leaving a faint pink handprint behind, the sound of it reverberating through the room. Kurt squealed in surprise, even louder than the sound of the spank. He stilled and looked over his shoulder to pout at Sebastian.

Sebastian moved forward to drape himself over Kurt’s back, pressing every line of their bodies together. He laid a loud, smacking kiss to Kurt’s cheek as he set a leisurely pace to his own thrusts. Kurt shifted his weight onto one arm so he could slap at Sebastian’s flank and urge him faster, but he only got a twin handprint to the other butt cheek for his efforts. Sebastian grabbed the offending wrist in a vice grip and brought it back down. “I know you’re used to riding me, but I’m not a horse, babydoll.”

“You’re big enough to fool me,” Kurt replied.

Sebastian chuckled but remained steadfast in his light, slow fucking.

“Sebastian, please,” Kurt begged. “Give it to me.”

“Such a desperate little slut,” Sebastian whispered into his ear, “aren’t you?”

“Uh huh,” Kurt nodded vigorously. He practically started cooing when Sebastian sped up the slightest bit. “You got me all worked up, looking so hot when you…”

“Say it,” Sebastian said, voice dropping an octave. “I murdered a man, and it got your pussy so wet you jumped me like a bitch in heat. The least you can do is say it.”

“Bastian!” Kurt cried. “Fuck, yeah! God, you killed someone and I nearly came just watching you do it.”

Sebastian grabbed Kurt’s hips tight— there would be a mess of bruises all over them tomorrow, and Sebastian couldn’t wait to squeeze them and watch Kurt squirm in front of everyone— and picked up the pace of his thrusts, almost to the speed they both really needed. He pressed his face into the side of Kurt’s neck and bit down, almost hard enough to break the skin and when he released and licked the sore skin to soothe it, Kurt just tipped his head sideways to offer more of his neck. “What exactly was it,” he asked between kisses, “that got you so hot and bothered, Kurt?”

“All of it, everything about it, it was amazing. You were amazing, Bas.” Kurt let out a shuddering breath when Sebastian slipped a finger down to rub over his clit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked like an avenging angel—” He broke off with a keen, and his pussy tightened around Sebastian’s cock in an orgasm neither has noticed creeping up. It was all Sebastian could do to bite down on the back of Kurt’s neck and power through. He refused to spill into Kurt’s hot, wet, velvety embrace just yet.

He waited for the last of Kurt’s spasms to pass, and pulled out without ceremony. His shirt was sticking to him uncomfortably, so he tore through the buttons and dropped it to the ground before petting comfortingly over Kurt’s back. “An angel, huh? Maybe Lucifer.”

Then he flipped his boyfriend over, hitched Kurt’s legs over his hips, and plunged back in.

Kurt screeched at the overstimulation, clawed mindlessly at his back, but his legs tightened around Sebastian’s waist and his hips still bore down to meet every thrust. Sebastian got up on his elbows and wiped away the tears he’d brought to Kurt’s eyes as a consequence stuffing him full of cock again while he was still so sensitive. He watched with a smirk as Kurt’s expression morphed from pleasure-pain to pure pleasure.

“The king of demons,” Kurt said, breathy and a bit raspy. “You looked like a king standing over him,” His eyes popped open to stare up at Sebastian with equal parts wonder and lust, “making your speech… deciding his fate.”

“You heard me— How long were you standing there, Kurt?”

“Long enough to know we have some things to discuss. Long enough to know seeing you that confident and powerful is the sexiest thing on the planet. You were so magnetic and you just… you owned the room. Always in control, aren’t you, daddy?”

“Oh, babydoll,” Sebastian murmured as he dropped down to press their foreheads together. “You don’t even know the half of it.” He kissed Kurt then, far too sweetly for the way they were fucking, but perfect. Kissing Kurt would always be perfect. They parted slowly, happy to just breathe each other in.

“You can tell me about it after you’ve fucked me so hard I see stars.”

That sounded like a plan he could get behind. Sebastian grabbed both of Kurt’s wrists and pinned them down above their heads using one hand, and with the other he pushed Kurt’s leg up until an ankle was hooked over his shoulder. Kurt moaned happily at the stretch and finally, Sebastian ratcheted up the speed of his thrusts.

The moans only got louder when he started pounding in, an incoherent jumble of obscenities and words of praise and Sebastian’s name falling from Kurt’s lips. Kurt arched his back, and with the new angle, Sebastian’s cock rubbed over his g-spot on every shove in. The sensation ripped a scream out of Kurt, and it was like music to Sebastian’s ears. “Fuck yeah, scream for your daddy.” He released Kurt’s limbs from his sweat-slippery grip and instead held his hips tight. Kurt’s hands drifted back down to scratch at the raw skin of Sebastian’s back, and the sting just made him shove his hips in harder. “So good for me, think you can come just from this? Just from my cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Kurt chanted with every thrust in. Sebastian moaned as he rammed his hips in and out like a jackhammer, faster and faster until Kurt was a writhing mess beneath him. “Bastian!” Kurt panted out. “Bastian, fuck, Bas!” Kurt came with a long, drawn out shriek.

Kurt felt like heaven surrounding his cock, clenching around him so beautifully, and Sebastian snapped his hips twice more before burying himself to the hilt with an animalistic grunt. He rolled his hips in figure eights as he came, wanting to feel every inch of the slick warm glove of Kurt’s cunt sucking him in.

Sebastian collapsed heavily on Kurt as he waited for the last of his aftershocks to pass. He kissed the patch of salty skin beneath his lips over and over again, trying to keep his hips twitching until Kurt stopped trembling. He pulled out with a squelch and brought Kurt’s leg down slowly, massaging his hamstrings with firm fingers all the while. Sebastian heaved himself back into a sitting position and looked down fondly.

Kurt’s eyes were still closed, but a sated smile played over his lips. He hummed contentedly when Sebastian’s thumb dug into a particular stiff spot in the muscles of his thigh and rubbed circles, but didn’t respond in any other way. Sebastian leaned sideways to pick up the discarded panties off the coffee table and slid them up Kurt’s legs. Kurt lifted his hips instinctually and finally his eyes blinked open when Sebastian patted his clothed mound heavily. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly.

“Of course,” Sebastian put his own underwear back on and lay down in Kurt’s waiting arms. “You’re probably not gonna be able to walk for the rest of the day, y’know.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s temple. “I have a very loving boyfriend with impressive upper body strength who’s gonna help me upstairs and draw a bath for me.”

“Oh really? He sounds like quite the catch.”

“He’s all right, I guess,” Kurt said, scrunching his nose. “I think he’s in the Mafia, so that’s a little questionable. I’m kind of head over heels for him, though.”

Sebastian pinched Kurt’s side hard enough to make him squeak. “We are _not_ the Mafia,” he said vehemently. “Do not, under any circumstances, call us the Mafia. We’re the Irish Mob. I cannot emphasize the difference enough. Don’t ever say that in front of Granda or he won’t like you anymore.”

“Ow, okay, I got it! Mafia bad, Mob good, no need for violence.”

Sebastian clambered to stand up and ducked down to smooch over the sore spot. “For the record, I’m kind of head over heels for you, too. Do you want to have some tea before we go up? You almost screamed yourself hoarse.”

“Yes, please. We wouldn’t want me to lose something as dangerous and powerful as my voice.”

Sebastian groaned as he helped Kurt sit up. “See if you ever get to watch me work my crazy hot, sexy as hell oratorical skills again,” he grumbled on his way to the kitchen.

When he returned with two steaming cups, it was to the sight of Kurt’s back as he stood in front of the open doorway to Sebastian’s office, leaning heavily against the door jamb and peering in. Sebastian set the drinks down on a console table and stepped behind him. He wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder. “What are we looking at?”

“The floors mostly, but also the exterior door,” Kurt said, scrutinizing for a minute more before turning around in Sebastian’s arms. “Not a drop of blood to be seen or a hair out of place. We’d need a blacklight to be sure, but I’m impressed. Like, too impressed to be mortified that they probably heard us going at it while they handled the mess.”

Sebastian regarded him with a proud smile. “You haven’t even known for a day and already you’re going over our operations with a fine-tooth combed. We’re going to rule over the Midwest with an iron fist.”

“We’re gonna rule over the Midwest?” Kurt stared at him incredulously.

“Well, I mean, not for a few decades— my grandparents aren’t even fully retired yet. But the day will come. Y’know, they used to be deathly afraid I’d be a perennial bachelor like my dad, so my grandparents were already elated when I told them I found a boy I could see myself marrying one day. And then my family met you, and you were so smart and sweet and good for me, they fell in love with you almost as hard as I did. But there was some concern too, because we don’t normally marry outside the business, and what if you were too sweet to stomach the things we do? Sometimes even people who were born into families like ours can’t; we know it’s a lot to ask of somebody to choose this life. We lie and cheat and steal and sometimes we murder. Not everyone is cut out for it, but any husband of mine _has_ to be. And you are, and they’re gonna be over the moon when they find out just how well you took the truth. I wish I could have told you on my own terms, but I’m so happy right now… I still can’t believe this isn’t a dream. Most people would have run for the hills.”

“It’s definitely not a dream. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Kurt whispered. He cradled Sebastian’s face tenderly in his hands, “I want to build a life with you, Sebastian Smythe. And if that means a closet full of skeletons, then so be it. Clearly, some part of me isn’t all sweetness, because I still don’t feel any guilt or anger or horror thinking about what I walked in on, just the same heady rush I felt when I saw you. You’re going to be a wonderful leader, and I’m going to be right there by your side. I will always choose you.”

Sebastian swooped down to press their lips together, and he felt an invisible weight fall off his shoulders as their tongues met. Kurt loved him and accepted him, warts and all. More than that, the darkness in his heart had found its twin hiding in Kurt’s radiant light, long before either of them noticed it was there. Kurt broke their kiss with a soft whoosh of breath, smiling when Sebastian tightened his hold around Kurt’s waist and chased his lips. Kurt allowed Sebastian another lingering peck, and another, and another, before tilting his head out of reach and regarding him with an excited grin.

“Okay, so did you seriously mean _all_ of the Midwest?”

“We dip into the South, too. I’ve got maps if you’re interested.”

“Of course I’m interested, I wanna know everything! And I love visual aids!”

“Well, then,” Sebastian unwrapped his arms from Kurt’s waist and retrieved the abandoned mugs, putting them back down when he realized they’d cooled off already. “How about we head upstairs for a hot shower? Then I’ll microwave these bad boys and we can have some piping hot honey-lemon as we begin your crash course on the most illustrious wheelings and dealings of the Smythe family.”

“I think that sounds like the perfect evening.”

Sebastian slung an arm around Kurt’s waist and guided him out. “It would be even more perfect if you put these back on after,” he said, snapping at the elastic of Kurt’s underwear.

“It would be most perfect if we had pizza. Also if we used the downstairs bathroom instead, because I can’t walk without limping. Also if you carried me, because I can’t walk without limping and you love me.”

Sebastian heaved an exaggerated sigh before heaving Kurt up into his arms and continuing on his way. “This isn’t actually that far from how my ideal ‘spill the beans to Kurt’ evening would have gone.”

“Like you wouldn’t have tried to protect my delicate sensibilities,” Kurt scoffed. “No sir, I want the nitty gritty. Like, are all those books in your office actually books or are you hiding blocks of cocaine there?”

Sebastian snorted back a laugh. “ _Bricks_ , babe. And no, I do not store millions of dollars of coke at home. That would be ridiculous.”

Kurt spluttered in indignation for a moment before slapping his shoulder. “Because slitting your coworker’s throat at home is not even remotely absurd!”

Sebastian pretended to drop him, laughing when Kurt shrieked and tightened his grip around Sebastian’s neck. He straightened up and held Kurt closer, kissing the corner of his frowning mouth. “In my defence, we would have done it out in the shed if it wasn’t fucking freezing.”

“Aww, the big bad mob boss can’t handle a little cold?”

“Maybe if I had a block of cocaine it would speed my metabolism up enough that the cold wouldn’t bother me.”

“You’re an asshole. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life by your side anymore.”

Sebastian stopped in front of the bathroom door and set Kurt down on his feet. He opened the door and made his way forward to the shower, cranking the water on and sitting on the rim of the bathtub as he waited for it to heat up. “Yeah, you do,” he told Kurt with a smug smile.

Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile in return, just a small quirk of the lips. “Yeah, I do,” he agreed.

Kurt stuck his thumbs beneath the waistband of his panties on either side of his hip and pushed them down, reaching behind to get them past the plump curve of his ass, so that they fell and pooled around his feet. He took a few steps to Sebastian before changing his mind and turning around, bending over at the waist— and heavens above, what a view that was— to pick the panties up and fold them primly, setting them down on the counter. Kurt hobbled forward to the tub and put his weight on Sebastian’s shoulder as he stepped over the edge to get under the hot spray.

Sebastian took his own boxer briefs off and laid them flat on the closed toilet lid. He followed after Kurt quickly, drawing the curtain behind them. “I can’t wait to teach you everything there is to know about my world,” he said as he pressed closer.

Kurt sighed in relaxation and leaned back against Sebastian’s chest. “I can’t wait to learn.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please, _please_ review. Even if you don't think you have anything worth saying, just an 'I liked it' or something would mean the world to me.


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